Persistence of Memory
by LostSchizophrenic
Summary: Will investigates Judith's murder and tries to understand the attitudes of those around him. Rating for safety only. A collaboration with CharlesTheBold. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1 Will and Toni

**A/N: **This is a joint venture between myself and the excellent CharlesTheBold. Please, please _**REVIEW**_! We LOVE reviews.

**Disclaimer: **Not ours. The title, the characters, none of it.

**Persistence of Memory  
**

**Chapter 1 Will andToni**

Toni Williams sighed, "Will...not again. What do you think you're going to accomplish? All you do when you come here is make yourself upset and that doesn't help anyone, least of all Judith...I understand how important it is to get this guy...Believe me, I do, but..." She stepped out of the cruiser, following her partner as he moved to stand in the center of the crime scene area, "Will..."

"Yeah, I know. But I keep hoping that I'll discover something new. It's frustrating, to know the identity of the guy and not being able to do anything about it."

Toni sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, "Come on. There's nothing here to help you..." she paused, "You can't bring her back by being here. And I can't believe she'd want you to remember her this way, in this place. Come on, Will...let's go..."

"I like to think that I'm a hardened police officer, but I'm not. It's possible that I overlooked something earlier because I was too upset to see it."

Toni closed her eyes briefly. She loved Will. He was her friend, her partner. She trusted him with her life, but he could be the most stubborn, infuriating man alive, "No. Will, I have been over every inch of this place with you, the entire CSI department has, there is _nothing_ here but bad memories. Now get in the car. There is nothing here that is going to help you catch that scum." She grabbed his shoulder firmly and pulled it toward the car, her look steely. He may be stubborn, but she was too. That's why they made a good team.

"Just give me five minute, Toni. And I promise, I won't waste any more of your time with this." Will stared at the murder site. When he was younger one of his heroes had been Sherlock Holmes, who missed nothing and could deduce everything. Holmes had no CSI department, no superpowers, just the eagle eye. But he saw nothing, and was conscious of his five minute limit constantly ticking away.

Toni sighed and stepped back, leaning against the car. This wasn't healthy for him to dwell on it, to be constantly at this place. The case had upset the entire department, the girl had been young and was close to one of the team. The station was family and when you messed with people they cared about, it hurt them all. But this, this wasn't healthy. She couldn't understand why Lucy Preston allowed Will to work the case when it ws more than obvious that he was far too emotionally involved.

When five minutes passed she walked back over, "Okay, Will. That's enough...Come on...We'll go over the kids' statements again...Three hundredth time may be the charm. We'll get this guy. We will. But it won't do any good for you to drive yourself crazy over what you can't change...I can't believe anybody that cared about you, about your family would want to see you like this...Let's go..."

Will didn't want to give up, but he had promised. He turned toward Toni, and as he did so he thought he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye. Blue jeans, gray sweater, probably a girl judging by her hair. But he blinked and she was gone. "Did you see that?"

Toni's forehead furrowed, "See what? Will...it's really time to go. We're not coming back here. It's not good for you..."

"All right, you've made your point. I'm coming." They got in the car, Toni at the driver's seat. Just as she started the car, Will felt a powerful sense of deja vu. "Wait. Jeans, gray sweater -- that's what Judith was wearing when she was stabbed. Joan had loaned her the sweater."

Toni looked at him, "What are you talking about?"

"I - never mind. I suppose I was just trying to visualize the details of the murder." He was not going to admit, even to Toni, that he might be frazzled enough to be seeing things.

"Alright. That's it. You're done. We're going back to the station and you are going to work on another case for the rest of the day. You're driving yourself crazy, Will. I'm not going to let this control you."

"All right." She was right, he was in no shape to work this case. It was too close. Not only was Judith somebody he knew, but the thought kept going through his head: IT COULD'VE BEEN JOAN.

Toni nodded, "Good." She sighed as they pulled away from the scene. Will was one of the best guys she'd worked with and she'd seen too many of them destroy themselves on a case. She wouldn't let him become one of them.

"Do me a favor, Toni, and don't tell Helen that we went by here today. I don't want to keep picking up the family's hopes and dashing them again."

Toni lifted an eyebrow, "I'm not lying to your wife for you, Will. She's just as worried as I am..."

"I didn't say 'lie', I said 'don't tell'". He winced as he realized how absurd that sounded. "Back when I was an altar boy the priest would have called that a 'sin of omission'. No, tell her what you want."

Toni sighed, "Will...you need to just take some time...Grieve. You haven't done that yet. You lost someone close to you, someone close to your whole family...You need to grieve..."

"All right." But it wasn't just him. Luke and Joan had been closer to Judith than he had, and they were simply not used to losing friends to death, particularly violent death. He made a mental note to talk to them, to see how they were dealing with it, now that the immediate shock had worn off.

Toni pulled into the station's parking lot, "I'll keep working on it, Will. Go find something else for tonight at least. Preston might let you off early, you've been putting in a lot of extra hours."

Preston might. She always seemed anxious to be helpful to Will, and Will didn't like it. But that wasn't something he could talk to Toni about. It would sound like favoritism, or worse. Helen had already expressed what she thought of it. Just take the line of least resistance, and don't ask Preston for favors. He had enough weighing on him without Lucy.

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	2. Chapter 2 Will and Luke

**A/N: **Once again, this is a collaboration between myself and CharlesTheBold. PLEASE REVIEW

**Disclaimer:** We still don't own any of it.**  
**

**CONVERSATIONS**

**Chapter 2 Will and Luke**

Will sighed softly as he stepped into the kitchen through the back door. He knew his partner had a point about spending so much time at the crime scene, about spending so much time on that particular case, but he couldn't help himself. He'd loved Judith like another daughter. He wondered again how Joan was taking it. Judith had been her best friend they'd been closer than many sisters he knew of.

He noticed his youngest child sitting at the kitchen table, studying some text that would probably leave him dazed and confused, "Hey Luke...Interesting book?"

"Yeah, Dad. It's about quarks and quanta and -- stuff," he concluded, realizing Will probably didn't know the terms.

Will nodded, though he had no clue what his son was talking about. "Do you know where your sister is?"

"Um, bookstore maybe. I think Sammy wanted her extra hours because he was expecting more business during Christmas."

Will nodded and sat down, realizing that it wasn't just Joan who had been close to Judith and, despite appearances, Luke did care deeply about people, once he got to know them. "How are you?" he asked softly.

"Fine, Dad." A few seconds passed. "Oh, you mean you really wanna know. Um --- I'm confused."

Will lifted an eyebrow, "Confused? That's one thing I never thought I'd hear you say...What are you confused about?"

"Well, death. We kids always say 'when I grow up I'll do this', 'When I'm 18 I'll do that'. It's never 'if'. I can't believe Judith just --- isn't."

Will sighed, "I know...When you're young, you think you're invincible...There's always 'tomorrow'...And it never makes sense when 'tomorrow' doesn't come. I don't know how to help you with that. Your mother likes to believe God takes care of it, but---" he shrugged. He had been raised Catholic, but no longer believed in God.

"Yeah," mused Luke. "I sort of believe in God, in the sense Einstein talked about. 'God is subtle but not malicious'. But Einstein never said that God would take care of everything that goes wrong."

Will looked at his youngest thoughtfully, "I guess I just can't believe in a God that's supposed to be a father but won't intervene in His children's bad choices if He can. I can't imagine letting you or Joan or Kevin do something I know would cause you pain and not at least try to warn you..." he tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, "I wish I could help you understand, to not be confused..." he shook his head, "But I don't understand it myself..."

"Yeah. Einstein said God just sort of started the world and let it operate according to his laws. What happens later is up to humans. Newton said so, too. It's very impersonal. I need something personal now."

Will chuckled humorlessly, "I'm not the best one to ask then..." he paused, "But...you're...doing alright? I mean, even if I can't answer your questions...you have someone that can?" He hated not being able to give his children what they needed, what they asked for, like now, he wanted to help Luke understand, but couldn't and needed to know that there was someone the young man could go to, since his father didn't have what he needed.

"Not someone. More of an idea. In science they always talk about conservation. Conservation of matter, energy, momentum and all that. Well, why shouldn't there be conservation of life? It doesn't just stop. It gets transformed into something we don't recognize. I don't mean ghosts, that's crude. But into _something_."

Will nodded a little, "I suppose that makes sense."

"Yeah. That's what I tell myself. Judith, and all the other people who have died, they're still existing somehow, where we can't see them."

Will nodded again, "I think that's a very good theory..." he hesitated. "How's your sister? I've been so...involved in the case I haven't even checked in with any of you..."

"Joan? It's always hard to tell with Joan. She changes moods so much. First she didn't want to see Judith's tomb, then she did. Sometimes she seems all broken up, sometimes she acts like she just saw Judith that morning and everything was great."

Will frowned slightly, worry creeping in, "You all were so close, but especially her," he reached out and squeezed Luke's shoulder. "I don't tell you nearly enough...I'm proud of you, Luke, and I love you."

Luke felt awkward; he rarely talked like this, because he liked to sound cool and logical. "Um, yeah -- I love you too."

Will smiled a bit, "I'll let you get back to your reading." he stood up and slowly went up the stairs. He was lucky his family was all still together.


	3. Chapter 3 Will and Joan I

**PERSISTENCE OF MEMORY**

**Chapter 3 Will and Joan I**

Joan sighed softly as she opened the front door and stepped inside. She noticed her dad sitting in the den and felt a moment of surprise to see him home so comparatively early. He'd been working late since Judith had died. It was like he'd become possessed with finding her killer. She sat down next to him and curled up against his side, "Hi, daddy."

"Hi, Joan." Trying to be nonchalant at first to ease into serious topic, he asked: "How were things at the bookstore tonight?"

Joan shrugged, "Slow." She paused. "How was work?" She wasn't sure she wanted to hear anything about her best friend's case, wanted to remember Judith alive, not dead, but thought if he needed to talk, who was she not to listen? It was her job, after all, to be open, to observe, to listen.

"Nothing too exciting. No big breakthroughs." He hesitated a moment. "I, uh, paid another visit to the alley. The place where---"

Joan nodded quickly. She sighed, "Why? They've cleaned it up. Even I know that -- She's okay, dad. She w-wouldn't be happy if she knew you were -- hurting like this." Joan looked away. She was worried about him. Really worried. He hardly ever smiled anymore or laughed, unless it was in a sad, pessimistic way.

"You don't think she'd be happy to leave her own murder unsolved?" It was a disturbing notion for Will. Any wrong must be righted, and he would expect the victim to want that especially.

Joan sighed, "If it was hurting you to try and solve it? Yes. She's okay now, daddy. She would want you to be too."

"She's OK? An odd way to put it. I mean, dead is not okay in my book, particularly for a girl just your age."

Joan sighed heavily, "I didn't say being dead was okay, I said that _she_ was okay. You think she just -- stopped existing? Or stopped caring about all of us? It sucks that she's dead. It sucks and it hurts that-that I can't just -- go see her -- but that doesn't mean she's gone or that she's forgotten about me."

Will was startled at the notion that a dead person could "not forget" Joan. "I was talking to your brother. He had this sort of theory about 'conservation of life', that living people survive in another form we can't see. Did he talk to you about that?"

Joan giggled softly, "'Conservation of life'?" she asked. "No. We haven't talked. I have my own reasons for believing -- for _knowing_ she's okay and hasn't forgotten me. Or any of us."

"What do you mean? Ghosts? Or the sort of afterlife that religious people talk about?"

Joan sighed, "Dad, religion has nothing to do with it."

"What then?" He hated pressing her like this. Press her too much and she may decide that she wasn't so confident after all, and she'd be miserable. But maybe she had some point of view that would make him feel better as well. Luke's "conservation of life" was a little too esoteric for Will.

Joan sighed again, "It's -- complicated."

"Ghosts, then?"

Joan smirked at him, "Nothing so cheesy."

That smile was unnerving. Will saw nothing in the situation to smile about. "What, then?" He realized that it was second time he had asked that. Maybe it was time to back off. Joan had, after all, always had trouble explaining her motivations, for some reason.

Joan frowned, "Quit it. I'm not crazy -- Look, my friend died. She was murdered. As much as I hate that, as much as I want to change it --make it not true -- I can't change it. Sometimes free will sucks! Sometimes bad shit happens and no one stops it. But just because I know my friend is all right and I don't believe in 'ghosts', it doesn't make me crazy!" Joan stood up and went over, looking out the window, her arms wrapped around herself. "Why don't you believe in God?"

"I did once. Then I decided that it was too much of a crutch, that I was relying on God to fix things when I should take action myself." Though taking action wasn't working at the moment. "So this is a religious matter after all? Have you been talking to Father Ken, or Lily, or the rabbi?"

Joan let out a groan of frustration, "God, dad! What is wrong with religion? If it helps someone not to give up, to-to find good in life, how is that so wrong? But religion isn't required to believe in God. I didn't ask you if you were religious -- Why does it always have to be that way with you? All or nothing? Either someone believes in God and that makes them religious, which means they're not -- I don't know -- accepting reality. Or they don't believe and the world just sucks and there's no reason, no purpose. It's just that life sucks---" she took a deep breath, "I haven't talked to Lily or Rabbi Polonski or Father Ken. Action is good. Action keeps things moving, progress happening, keeps you from just...letting life roll over you. But---" she sighed again and ran a hand through her hair, trying to explain what she knew without saying God told her.

Will looked at his daughter, puzzled by her agitation. Perhaps this had gone too far. He had started by simply trying to find out how his kids were reacting, then somehow it had turned into an attempt to get answers for himself from his kids. "It's all right, Joan. You have beliefs that buoy you up and see you through crises like this. That's -- that's good, I guess." To himself he added: _but it won't work for me._

Joan looked at him, "Look...You've got free will. Everybody does...but...faith isn't the bad thing you seem to think it is...Faith in-in God, in the universe, in basic human decency, whatever...I mean..." she paused as her eyes filled with tears and a few dripped down her cheeks, "I miss her. Sometimes I miss her so much it feels like I can't breathe, like nothing will ever be right again. That even if you found the scum that killed her and put him in jail forever, it wouldn't help. But I know she'd kick my butt if I quit living just because she died, if I let that become the rest of my life...Do-do you remember when you were held hostage by that guy, in the car? How-how it seemed like -- maybe you wouldn't come home?" she asked.

It had been almost a year ago. It had taken a long time before he'd been able to admit to his children how afraid he'd been that day. How he'd thought he might not come home to them, but that he'd known they'd be all right, that they wouldn't let it destroy them.

He did not want to get into the hostage situation at the moment. That, on top of brooding on Judith, would be too overwhelming. "I do have faith, Joan. But I would call it faith in humanity, that if everybody works hard enough we can make everything right. Well, not everything. We can't bring the dead back to life. We can do our best to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Joan sighed, "Do you remember that time or not?" she asked firmly, "Do you remember what you told us or not?"

"I remember saying that I didn't want to leave the family behind, that I almost felt guilty about getting shot."

Joan nodded, "You said...you knew we'd all end up okay, we'd move on and live...even if you weren't with us." She looked at him steadily, "And what if it had happened, huh? What if you hadn't come home? If you hadn't come home and-and you watched us just...stop living because you were gone? Because you'd still be around. God doesn't cut off the people we love from us. He doesn't keep them from watching over us. We just don't get to see them. So...if you'd died...and we...and we spent the rest of our lives...trying to...make it better...by, I don't know, catching the guy...by trying to make sense of it, like-like you're trying to make sense of what happened to Judith...You wouldn't be happy. You'd want to yell at us, anything-anything to tell us that we could move on...wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, moving on is good. But not to the point of suppressing the memory of somebody who deserves to be remembered. I'd like to have a cheerful way of life, but my job is to deal with the dark side of society -- somebody has to do it."

Joan sighed heavily, "And you think..." she looked at him, her eyes filled with tears and confusion and a little hurt. "You think I've forgotten my best friend? The-the person who was like half of me? Because I'm 'happy'? I'm 'happy' and-and I'm 'living' so I've forgotten her?" she asked, her voice trembling with hurt and confusion and the tears that still ran down her cheeks, though she didn't seem to notice them.

"No -- I didn't mean that, darling." All the same he found it difficult to understand Joan's attitude. How could she remember her loss and not be devastated by it?

Joan looked away from him, "Right...Daddy...you loved her right?"

"Yes. Not like you or Luke or Kevin, of course, but she was a girl who needed protection. And I failed to protect her."

Joan sniffed a bit, "You can't protect everyone." She paused then continued: "She loved you too, you know. She called her own parents Bill and Fran, but _you_...she called _you_ Papa Girardi...That's how much she loved you...And if it was me?" she looked at him, her jaw tense, "If it was me that got hurt? That died?"

"I don't think I could ever enjoy life again if it had been you."

Joan looked at him, "Even if I wanted you to? Do-do you have any idea how pissed I'd be if you just gave up because I was gone? If I died, if somebody hurt me and I died and you quit living because of it?" she shook her head. "I'd want you to live. _For_ me. _Because_ of me. Because you loved me, because...if you gave up...it would be like the killer winning..." she looked at him. "I know that's how Judith feels. She wants to be remembered, sure, she wants to have the guy caught. But she wants even more for us to live. Because she can't. Isn't that what you'd want? If you died? Wouldn't you want us to live? To move on and not destroy ourselves over it?"

"I can't will my feelings a certain way because somebody else wants it, dead or not."

Joan looked at him as he sat on the window seat and knelt down. She was crying but she didn't care. Her voice was soft and pleading, "But daddy...I need you. Do-don't you see? How you are now, it-it scares me. It scares all of us and worries us. It-it's like...instead of just losing my best friend that night, I lost you too."

Maybe, in spite of what he just said, he should try to will his feelings in another direction. Not because some spirit from beyond the dead was insisting on it -- he still couldn't understand that part of Joan's argument. But because his family needed him. His subordinates needed him to be good at work. _Arcadia _needed him.

Joan looked at him, "I need you to be all right. To-to live, even though it hurts...That's a gift. It hurts because we feel, because we love--but how would we know what it meant to care about someone if there wasn't an opposite?" Her voice broke again, "Please don't leave me daddy...I need you too."

"All right. I'll try to -- break the cycle." He wasn't sure how yet. Should he go tell Lucy to assign somebody else to the case? Would people consider that a defeat, or a sensible case of resolving a conflict of interest? Did he care what people thought? At least Joan had found some sort of equilibrium, though he did not understand it.

Joan climbed onto the seat next to him and hugged him, "I can't lose you both. Not at the same time..." She knew this wasn't the end of his doubts, but she hoped and prayed that he would stop drifting away from them.


	4. Chapter 4 Will and Helen

**PERSISTANCE OF MEMORY**

**Chapter 4 Will and Helen**

Will and Helen were about to settle into bed that night.

"Darling, have you talked to the kids recently?"

Helen's forehead furrowed, "Talked to the kids? I talk to them every day Will, we both do." She shook her head a little not quite sure what he was asking.

"Yeah. About -- important stuff -- what concerns them --."

She sighed, "Will, just spit it out. We've been married for over 20 years..."

"Yeah." He tried to figure some way to summarize his conflicting feelings, and finally found the word. "Judith."

Helen looked at him, "Oh," she sighed. "I've not talked to them in the past few days...You remember, I did take Joan to talk to Dr. Dan."

"Yeah, but I heard that she walked out. I never have liked therapists much. He talked us into sending her to that summer camp, but she just seemed wierder one she got back."

Helen lifted an eyebrow, no one got to call her children weird, not even her own husband, "First, she's not weird. She's a teenager. She's a teenager that's had a lot happen, her brother being paralyzed, she had Lyme Disease, her best friend was murdered, of course she's going to change, act out a bit, but she's been...handling everything...remarkably well. Second, she didn't walk out. She finished the session and asked that she not have to go back. Since she'd gone the once and he wasn't concerned and she hasn't been doing anything destructive--" Helen paused then went on, "I'm actually more worried about you."

"Me? I'm fine." But that statement sounded utterly unconvincing, even to him.

Helen gave him the look that told him she knew he was lying, "No you're not. Don't you start lying to me. Not now."

"Italian men aren't supposed to admit to weak feelings. Except in opera, and I've never been much for opera."

Helen gave him another look, "William Gerald Girardi, don't you dare pull that 'I'm a man, I have no feelings' routine on me. The man I married has never been afraid to show that he has feelings."

"All right, all right. I'm upset about Judith. Some people have been saying too upset, that I ought to withdraw from the case."

Helen propped herself up on an elbow, "And what do you say about that?" She wasn't going to say that she agreed to some extent. Not yet, anyway.

"I could claim that it's a matter of conflict of interest, that I'm too close to the issues. But it would feel like defeat. My daughter's best friend gets killed, and I can't even obtain justice for her?"

Helen studied him for a long moment, "But at what cost, Will? At what cost?"

"Cost? There's no cost. The county pays me to enforce the law---"

Helen sat bolt upright, "That is the biggest load of horse-shit I've ever heard come out of your mouth, sir."

Will was startled. Helen seldom swore unless she was very upset, as on the occasion when she called her sick aunt a "bitch". "All right, I know what you meant. That it's wearing me down. But I should be able to bear that, for Joan's sake. It was her best friend."

Helen looked at him, "Will, we all cared about her. Have you talked to Joan about this? And please don't tell me that you're her father, you're not supposed to be anything but strong for her. She's definitely a daddy's little girl, but give her some credit. She understands you're human too. And you're still her hero."

He thought he heard Joan's voice from another room. _"Hey, did Mom just say s----"_

"Yeah I did talk to her. It's hard to communicate with her. She keeps telling me 'Judith feels this' and 'Judith thinks that', like she was chatting with her spirit on her cell phone. Maybe it's her way of dodging the enormity of what happened. Anyway, she says I'm too overwhelmed."

Helen frowned at him. "Will, do you honestly believe that she's not accepting reality?"

"Lots of people don't. They visualize their departed ones of angels in heaven -- to me that's denying reality. Luke has a scientific theory -- I can respect that. What Joan's doing is more sophisticated, but it's still a way of being in denial."

Helen pressed her lips together, "And me? If I choose to believe the people I love don't cease when they die, does that mean I don't accept reality? Whether it's because of some scientific theory or because there's a God and heaven..."

"All right. You believe that and I don't. Let's agree to disagree. The point is, Joan thinks I'm getting too emotional."

Helen looked at him for a long moment, "I don't think she's wrong. Will, we are all dealing with this in our own ways, and it seems to me our ways at least let us still find joy in life, they don't take us from everyone around us, drive us so hard that we have nightmares or can't sleep, push us so hard that our boss and colleagues start to wonder if we should have some enforced time off. It seems to me, your way isn't working. I know you're just trying to do your job, you're just trying to make sense of it. But Will, the deeper you sink into this case, the farther away from us you become. I didn't want to say this earlier, but I think you should consider taking some time off from the case. Do a bit of soul searching."

"Should I talk to Lucy then?" Will knew that would irritate Helen and deflect her. Helen hated Lucy.

Helen looked at him, "I think you need to do whatever you need to, to get some time off the case. And I think you should listen to your daughter. Did you ever stop to consider why she believes what she does? Why she's so certain? Why any of us are so eager to believe what we do? Besides just trying to escape reality. I think you ought to talk to her again. And listen to her--you were right earlier, when you said she'd changed after that camp. But for a while, before she got back to 'normal', I suppose we were worried about her, remember? She seemed lost. She's not like that anymore. And trust me, people who try to deny reality? They're lost. You know I'm right."

His various evasions had all failed, "Yes. I know you're right. I'll tell Lucy to take me off."

Helen nodded, "Good. Maybe after you've had a bit of time for yourself you ought to consider spending some with Joan. More than just a few minutes. I think you both need it."

"I will. I'll pick her up at the bookstore tomorrow, and that'll give us an opportunity to talk."

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